Dolgor NYAMAA

THE HORSES NEIGH AT NIGHT UPON THE STEPPE

The brown steppe is like an ancient story,
There is no sound to be heard.
A traveller, wearied by the distant road,
Spends the night on the steppe.

In the deep darkness, the objects of the sky
Stretch out white, like a mare’s tethering-line.
He feels the nature of the peaceful steppe,
He watches the stars, as though the horse was missing.

The brown steppe is like an ancient story,
There is no sound to be heard.
Like what we sense among the stars,
The horses neigh at night upon the steppe.


translated by Simon Wickham-Smith